An Interesting Future
by Gigabomb
Summary: A series of one-shots and short stories that take place in an alternate universe. In which Goten becomes a superhero, 18 sets Cell up on a date without bothering to ask first, & Cell & Gohan get conned into entering the Worlds Martial Arts Tournament.
1. The Great Saiyaman Fiasco

The Great Saiyaman Fiasco

Author's Note: This is a sequel to "An Alternate Afterlife, and the storyline is briefly mentioned in Chapter 10. Keep in mind this will probably be heavily revised as I think of new story ideas and discard old ones for my mini-saga, but this will give you an idea of where I now think "An Alternate Afterlife" is going.

Trunks stared. And stared. And stared. And stared. He would have stared even longer, but his hearing finally caught the tail end of Goten's question

". . .think?"

"Huh?" Goten repeated it. "Well, um. It's certainly. . . well, to be honest Goten, you look like a

reject from the circus of Hell." The black haired demi-saiyan huffed, though the black hair wasn't in evidence, hidden as it was beneath the helmet.

"It was your mom who designed it for me, Trunks."

"Geez, I guess she had a fit of temporary insanity or something. Usually mom knows good fashion."

"Well," and Goten took another look in the mirror, "I like it."

SWITCH

"Hey, Gohan."

"Goten, please tell me Vegeta slipped some drugs into my drink last night."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because I'm seeing things."

"Bulma designed the outfit!"

"Get her to design another one."

"No! This is perfect! I have a superhero routine and everything!" Goten demonstrated.

"The last thing I need is Ginyu Force flashbacks, Goten. I have enough nightmares as it is."

SWITCH

"Goten, if you honestly plan to keep that monstrosity, I won't appear in public with you. Not even if it was to witness your brother's execution."

"You barely even looked!"

"The overwhelming blanket of horror and despair I sensed from the local fauna that gazed upon your costume gave me a pretty good idea."

"I like this outfit!"

"Proving once again that animals lacking sentience have far more fashion sense than the entire Son family put together." Goten glared up at his mentor, who had two or three inches on him.

"I thought you would support me."

"Goten, I'm saving you a great deal of shame by telling you this now; you will be laughed off the streets if you actually go through with this."

"Gohan doesn't like it either."

"This costume's pure ugliness is the uniting force that pulls myself and your brother together."

"But. . ."

"Stick to fighting, Goten, and take my advice; never go into the fashion industry."

SWTICH

"Brat, if you appeared like that on Vegeta-sei, you would be put down mercifully."

"I have the saiyan spandex, though."

"Hardly a redeeming feature. It doesn't even look suited for fighting. That cape is just begging to be wrapped around your neck. And the helmet can't offer all that much head protection. Probably limits visibility too."

"It's designed to impress people and intimidate evil!"

"Any evil that is weak enough to be intimidated by that could easily be dealt with by a human child."

"I didn't come here for your opinion, Vegeta."

SWITCH

"Mommy, look! Goten is a clown!"

"No, sweetie, Goten is a superhero."

"Like the chicken man on TV?"

"Yes, Bra, like the chicken man."

"Yay, Goten is going to save us from the evil forces of cutlery and pot pie!"

SWITCH

"What do you think, dad?"

"It's certainly an interesting fashion choice, son. But I wouldn't recommend it for a fight."

"I'm just going to be against regular humans, dad." "

Well, then, have fun I guess. The antenna aren't the best idea, though. Or do they give reception or something?"

". . . Never mind, dad."

SWITCH

"Goten, what happened?" The demi-saiyan, now sans Great Saiyaman outfit, flopped down on the couch.

"They laughed me off the street, Trunks. Just like Cell said they would. He was right. You were right." Trunks smiled smugly.

"Aren't I always?"

"That's why I had your mom design me a new costume! Look, it's got a cape and everything, except now, the antenna don't. . ." Trunks snatched the hologram watch off of Goten's wrist, and threw it into the nearby sink full of dirty dishwater. There was silence. "Trunks, that was unnecessary."

"How about I take you out to an all-you-can-eat buffet to ease the pain? Bet you can't get us kicked out."

"You're on!"

FIN


	2. Why Androids Shouldn't Date, Part One

Author's Note: Okay, this kind of came out of no where. I've decided to dub this 'the fic I do when I don't want to work on "An Alternate Afterlife.'" Yes, Chi-chi and Goku are divorced. She fell in love with the guy briefly mentioned in chapter nine of "An Alternate Afterlife." Goku, realizing how happy she was, gave his blessing. He technically has joint custody of Goten and Gohan, but due to circumstances (mostly Cell) Goten lives with him most of the time and Gohan lives with his mom. Yes Chi-chi and her husband have a daughter, but she isn't important and probably is never going to show up anywhere. I don't like OCs and Mint is there as a joke. I might write Part Two. Probably not until I hit writer's block again on "AAA." Anyway, enjoy.

Of course, it was to be expected that at first Eighteen was a little hesitant to accept Cell. He had, after all, absorbed her and Seventeen. However, when his response to her casual query of "Seen Dr. Gero lately?" Was several expletives, he began to grow on her. Seventeen being a few minutes older than her, she had always privately wanted a younger sibling and was pleased to get one, even if said sibling had ten inches and eighty pounds on her. Cell, for his part, had decided to adapt to life on Earth, and he knew a family was part of the package deal. He just didn't think getting a formerly bald monk as a brother-in-law was such a good bonus. Krillin reciprocated the feeling.

They didn't lack babysitters, but Marron had latched onto her android uncle almost as tightly as Goten had, and insisted on Cell being present for all family occasions. That was when the trouble started.

It was Marron's third birthday, and the congregation consisted of most of the Z-Fighters along with her friends from school and a few parents. Marron was happily opening her presents, her friends clustered around her and her parents looking on indulgently. For obvious reasons, Piccolo wasn't present, but Chi-chi and her husband Taro were talking with Marron's teacher about possible daycare opportunities, Bulma was making sure Trunks didn't prank the cake, Vegeta was glaring in a corner, and Gohan was acting pleasant and generally being the well brought up young man who had come to watch over his younger brother. Not that he needed to. Goten had a grip on Cell's hair that would have chocked a rhino, but Cell hardly noticed except to make sure the demi-saiyan's elder brother wasn't in the vicinity. He was sitting next to Goku, who was eating ramen, rice balls, and meat buns simultaneously. The android currently was expressing his current dislike of the situation to the saiyan, who didn't respond as his mouth was full but nodded at all the right parts.

"I don't understand how I ended up here. I don't remember flying or walking. My sister's brat says three words, and a week later I'm here, watching brats stuff themselves sick and throwing up all over the carpet. And can you believe that woman? 'A suit is hardly appropriate for a child's birthday party, and you are not going to wear a gi. There are enough rumors about our family as it is.' Then she drags me shopping. Shopping! Why in hell would I shop? I materialize clothing, for Kami's sake!" For Eighteen's part, she had done an admirable job. Wearing a skin tight black tank top and khakis with boots, Cell had attracted almost as many looks as his elder brother. He probably would have attracted more, but while Seventeen was unabashedly flirting with any female with a heartbeat, the younger android was sending off a tidal wave of negative vibes, though it was probably the saiyan garbage disposal nearby that really prevented the ladies from doing anything but send suggestive looks Cell's way.

Unfortunately for the ladies, Cell wasn't human, and lacked the know how to differentiate leers from stares. "'Rare skin condition,' my tail! These humans don't seem to be buying Eighteen's story at all!" Goku paused briefly in his eating. He had about as much human in him as Cell did, meaning zero, so similarly lacked the human hormone radar.

"You're right, Cell. . ."

"Seru," the android absently corrected him.

"Huh?"

"It's Seru, remember? Cell was the murderous android whom Hercule killed six years ago. Seru is Eighteen's younger brother who just came back from a foreign exchange program that lasted five years."

"Oh, right. Anyway, these people are staring. Huh, most of them are female. I wonder what's going on?"

"The feminine half of the human species has far more intuition than the male half. They obviously suspect something."

It was the aunt of Marron's best friend Ginger who finally had the nerve to go talk to the most intimidating member of the android family; Eighteen. "Um, miss Eighteen, that's your brother, right?" She cringed when the female android's icy gaze turned to meet her own. Eighteen's voice was indifferent.

"I presume you're referring to the albino idiot in the tank, and not the black-haired flirt who has promised to sleep with three women tonight already." Mint, for that was the young aunt's name, blushed prettily.

"As attractive as your twin brother is, he seems a bit. . . forward for me."

"You mean he's a slut."

"Well. . ."

"Don't worry, everyone else thinks he's a slut too. But he's a better choice than Tweedle-Dee over there."

"Um, Tweedle-Dee?"

"Tweedle-Dum would be the spike head devouring what's left of the buffet. Trust me, you don't want him." Mint turned a scandalized look towards Eighteen.

"He's your little brother! How can you say such things!"

"He's lucky I'm not doing much worse."

"What did he do to make you so angry at him?"

"Let's just say he was too much of a daddy's boy when we were younger, and leave it at that."

"He doesn't seem very social. If the customs were so different in the country he lived in, you should have him interact with others to get more comfortable, if he is going to live here."

"If you want to go on a date with him, ask him yourself." Mint turned away dejectedly.

It was then Bulma noticed the discussion. "Hey Eighteen, what was that about?"

"The human wants a date with my brother."

"Your brother. . .?"

"Not the slut."

"Well, I'm hardly surprised. Murderous android notwithstanding, he is extremely attractive. What did you say to her?"

"That she has to ask him herself."

"Not the most encouraging sister, are you?"

"I thought it would be rather stupid to send someone on a date with my brother, who thinks as a general rule humans are lower life-forms."

"Cell. . ."

"Seru."

"Seru needs to adapt eventually. He has been interacting with humans for a while and hasn't killed anyone, and should be taking the next step. You pretty much told poor Mint that you didn't approve of her, and she has such delicate feelings."

"Let me get this straight. You want Seru, who has never been on a date and hasn't even spoken to a human female besides those already romantically engaged, to date this Mint, with, how did you put it? 'Delicate feelings?'"

"Seru is a genius, Eighteen. I think he can figure out how to take a girl on a date."

"Seru is an alien android, Bulma. He has about as much social know how as an iguana."

"If Mint is so wildly unsuitable for Seru, she will be a good trial run for dating if he messes up."

"Whatever. It's not like I care."

Vegeta, who that moment had just happened to be walking by on the way to the buffet, snorted. "Didn't it ever occur to you women that the android might not want to date at all?" Both Eighteen and Bulma sent looks of incomprehension the saiyan prince's way. He rolled his eyes. "That poor sap. He had no idea what he was getting into when he decided to live on Earth." The women ignored him, Bulma finally noticing Trunks was suspiciously near the cake, and Eighteen making a trek towards Mint, determined to make plans for her little brother's first date. Never mind Cell had no idea any interaction involving him had taken place, arguing as he was with Goku over the last meat bun. The poor fool.

"Explain to me how I ended up at the mall less than a week after I vowed I would never enter this human vision of hell ever again."

"We need to pick up a tuxedo."

"Erm, besides the obvious fact I can conjure clothing, why do I need a tuxedo, exactly?"

"You are going on a date." The burrito paused halfway to Cell's mouth. He stared blankly at his elder sister, but she didn't say anything else, sipping as she was on her smoothie. Finally he broke the silence.

"A date." She paused briefly in enjoying her beverage.

"That's what I said."

"Why do I not remember planning to stick my tongue down a human's throat?"

This statement was unusual enough that Eighteen deigned to answer. "You aren't required to French on a first date, little brother."

"Seeing as you have never dated, per say, I wonder how you came by that information."

"Bulma was very informative on the matter."

"That still begs the question. How in Kami's name did I END UP ON A DATE?!" Eighteen ignored Cell's outburst for the most part, besides observing,

"You're crushing your burrito." The younger android glanced down at his hand, noticing that, yes in fact, his burrito was now rather squashed, though luckily still edible, as he had taken most of his outburst out on the table. Well, calling it a table now was really a matter of opinion. "Besides, I set you up."

"On a date."

"Yes."

"With a human."

"She sure isn't a namek."

"Why wasn't I informed?"

"Because you would have said no."

"Well, it could have saved you some trouble. I'm saying no now."

"No you aren't. The reservations have already been made."

"So what?" "I'm not going to lose my deposit at the restaurant and limo company."

"I was under the impression that usually the participants in the date decided where to go."

"Fine, where are you taking Mint?"

"Who?"

Your date."

"Well, a movie first would probably. . . wait a moment. I'm not taking her anywhere because I'm not going!" Eighteen looked at him blandly as she finished off her smoothie.

Cell wasn't exactly sure how his proclamation ended up with him in the tuxedo shop being measured for the most expensive suit in the place. Apparently he wasn't even trusted to choose his clothing for the date he didn't want to go on with a human he didn't want to know, but apparently older sisters are the same no matter what species you are.

"Well?" It was three days later, approximately forty-six hours and thirteen minutes before what the females involved were calling "The First Date." Cell was calling it a pain in the ass, though not within Goten's hearing on pain of death from Chi-chi. He was currently asking Goku about dating. This wasn't the best choice, as Goku had never been on a date either, but quite frankly the only person vaguely qualified to ask about this sort of thing besides Bulma (who was female and a collaborator of the enemy, therefore unsuitable) was Yamcha, who was an idiot (Cell was slightly biased, as his initial and last impression of the human had been that of a quivering mass of nerves who had looked fit to faint at the mere sight of him) and unmarried at forty (this wasn't biased, so is probably a better reason, but whatever). Well, there was Seventeen, but Cell knew from the numerous soap operas he had seen on daytime television that the last person you ask about dating is your older brother. Goku was divorced, but he had been married at one point so had to have some idea of how romance went with humans.

"They like to make dinner for you." Goku wracked his brain a little more. "And sex." Fine. Goku knew less than Cell about romance, which was nothing.

"Human females like to cook for males and have sex with them? Isn't there anything else?"

"Well, that's all I ever did with Chi-chi."

"That's probably why your marriage failed."

"Our marriage was annulled because I died, Cell."

"I think I am beginning to see why Eighteen won't let me plan this thing."

"Yeah, Chi-chi never let me choose where we went either."

((It's just a date. Less than four hours with a human. We eat, we go to that movie, I take her home. That's it.)) Cell watched as Seventeen and Krillin sent him looks of sympathy as Bulma continued to give her instructions, most of which seemed very flexible.

"Kiss her hand when she first walks up to you, unless she's shy, then just hand her the roses. . ." The android glanced to the side and was startled to see Vegeta give him a glance of utter pity.

((If that's it, why do I get a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach?)) He finally tuned in to what Bulma was saying,

". . .just remember to never do that, and you'll be fine. Oh look, your limo's here." She pushed him out the door, and Cell had time for one look of complete panic at the men assembled before he was shoved into the limo and sent off to Sunflower Avenue.

((Remember what? What am I supposed to avoid? What did that infernal woman say!?"))

To be continued. . .


	3. Why Androids Shouldn't Date, Part Two

Author's Note: Apparently this fic has a three month update schedule. Anyway, this is now the story I work on when I'm not working on "A Conceivable Outcome." I actually know how the next chapter of that is going to go, but I'm not in the mood for angst. I actually wanted to write something else funny, either "Hercule, Savior of Earth" or "Why Going Into Alternate Universes Generally Isn't A Good Idea," but I knew part two then would never get written. This might have mention in future chapters anyway, so it's good to get out of the way.

As for the religion jokes in this chapter, I have absolutely nothing against Jews or Mormons. In fact, one of my better friends is Orthodox Jewish and I can count three Mormons among my friends, one of whom I sit with in class all the time and we have fun ragging other people. I don't know how this turned to slash. It was completely unplanned. Don't worry, it's very, very mild. I actually enjoyed writing this, near the end, though I hate FFN. Those new modifications cut out a lot of stuff.

Sunflower Avenue wasn't named very accurately. The predominant theme seemed more in the way of daffodils than sunflowers, but Cell supposed that it being spring and not summer had something to do with it. The houses were utterly typical, and other than some slight variations in color, completely identical. There were toys strewn about the yards, but no children present, as it was after six. The fact that it was still light seemed rather irrelevant. There were no weeds. There was no garbage. But there were lawn gnomes (he hadn't actually known these existed outside of bad horror movies) and white picket fences. All in all, it was everything that Cell had envisioned years ago when he had decided blowing up the Earth would be doing the universe a favor. The sudden urge to kill everyone and everything within a mile radius was almost overwhelming.

Cell thought of sparring with Goku. He thought of beating the snot out of Gohan until the demi-saiyan could no longer breath due to collapsed lungs. He even imagined what Bulma (and Eighteen) would do to him if they ever found out he was contemplating murdering hundreds, if not thousands of people based on how neat their lawns were. It lasted him until he arrived at 0666 Sunflower Avenue. Barely.

She was late. Only by three minutes, but any kind of tardiness was a good excuse when he wanted to get out of there as badly as he did. Still. . . thoughts of Bulma again ran through his head, and with a sigh, he resolved to give her five more minutes. Murphy's Law, as always, being in effect, she walked out the door precisely four minutes and fifty seconds later.

She was pretty, in a demure, understated, modest sort of way. Her dress showed nothing that would be remotely interesting to a human male, and was light blue in color, going down to swish about her ankles. She had a pink bow in her light brown hair. All in all, very boring. He had expected as much, though before now he had never seen her. A Bulma side note suddenly decided to make itself known. ((Kiss her hand when she first walks up to you, unless she's shy, then just hand her the roses.)) She looked 'shy' he supposed. Though what, exactly, did shy look like? He couldn't recall ever meeting any shy people. It was always pretty clear from the get go whether they wanted to associate with him or not. There was none of that sending false signals human foolishness. Well, he might as well err on the side of caution.

"These are for you." He gave the roses to her as she started to climb into the limo. This wasn't as romantic as it sounded, mainly because of his purely matter-of-fact tone. However, as his voice sounded somewhat suave by nature, (Cell wasn't aware of this, but pretty much everyone he talked to thought he was flirting with them . . until they realized he wasn't. This revelation usually came about when they tried to flirt back, and Cell either had no idea what they were doing, or thought they were threatening him. This almost ended rather morbidly several times before Eighteen instructed Cell to just stop talking to people for extended intervals. He was more than happy to comply.) Mint was somewhat flattered. She hadn't gotten the most positive perspective on Cell from Eighteen, but in his extremely well-fitting tux, slicked back hair with one misbehaving curl, and all around gorgeousness, she soon forgot her prior misapprehension. And as with most women, she had something of a kink for tall, dark, and moody, and two out of three isn't bad.

"Th-thank you."

"You're welcome."

There was an awkward silence. Mint tried to break it. "You know, I never did find out where you went on that foreign exchange program." She still wasn't looking at him. What was wrong with this human?

"South Africa." Eighteen and Bulma had worked out his back story. His accent was rather distinctly British, but that wouldn't account for his rather high number of social gaffs. Most people didn't know what South Africans sounded like, but most of the Caucasian populace was descended from English colonists, and their culture was sufficiently alien to explain such issues as Cell's characteristic abruptness with people he didn't know.

"Oh. Was it nice there?"

"Rather dusty." Another pause.

"Was your transfer for academics?"

"Not really." The back story said yes, it was for school, but Cell really didn't care. He didn't see the point of lying to someone whose opinions he didn't care about.

"Then what for?"

"To get away from my family."

"Why would you want to do that?" Amazing. She actually looked like she didn't know any reasons you'd want to get away from your relations. Cell wondered how she would react to the truth. Might as well find out.

"My elder brother killed my father. I then attempted to kill my elder brother, though in hindsight, father deserved it. My sister got in the way. I attempted to kill her as well. Some friends of one of our. . . cousin (well, he certainly couldn't call Sixteen his brother) interfered. I killed my cousin, then I left when I couldn't succeed in killing my brother and sister. They only recently forgave me for siding with father, and that's only because I admitted I was wrong. I'm still paying for it." Alright, he had left some details out, but he was trying to alienate her, not send her into hysterics with her later going on national television to completely blow everyone's cover.

"Your brother killed your father and you killed your cousin."

"Yes."

"Oh. Where are we going for dinner?" Cell blinked. That was it? No fear, no paling of the skin, no horrified disgust? What was going on?

"Don't you care?"

"I don't like to comment on the problems of other families. My brother married a Mormon, and I certainly wouldn't appreciate it if my date said something disparaging about my family."

"What's so bad about marrying a Mormon?"

"We're Jewish."

"Um, should you be dating me, then?"

"I will quote you something my father once said to me: 'If they have no religion, then they can always be converted.'"

"Actually, I do believe in God." He had even met him once, though Mint probably wouldn't appreciate hearing that God was a short, green, pointy-eared alien with confrontation issues.

"It really is a lot easier to convert agnostics than atheists. You already have your faith, you just need a group to commune with."

"I prefer to communicate with Kami on my own time."

"As long as you don't have any relatives in Utah. . ." (1)

They sat in silence the rest of the ride.

SWITCH

"Why are we following Cell, again?"

"Bulma and Eighteen want a minute-to-minute report on his date."

"Isn't that an invasion of his privacy?"

"Hey, do you want to tell them no? Those two combined make Frieza look like a daisy."

"He already looked kind of girly-ish. . ."

"That's beside the point. The point is that there is no way Cell is going to pull this off, and I want to be there when he screws up."

Krillin looked at Yamcha, eyebrow raised. "I didn't know you hated him that much."

"I don't. It's just that he is the only one of the former villains with a chance of being humiliated and not killing everyone within five miles of him. I mean, can you see what would happen if they did this to Vegeta or Piccolo?"

"Chi-chi made Piccolo take driving lessons once."

"I didn't get to see it." Yamcha plastered the binoculars again to his face. "They're getting out of the limo. Wow, Cell's actually helping her. I guess he was listening when Bulma gave him all those instructions."

"You know, I thought you'd be more worried about this."

"Why would I be worried?"

"I'm his brother-in-law. The most he would do is beat me up a little. But you? If he caught us. . . I don't know if you'd survive."

The former desert bandit lowered the binoculars, slightly more pale than he had been a few moments before. "Why didn't Seventeen get forced to this, again?"

"He has a date."

"Well, shit, I could have used that excuse."

"No, he actually has a date. She came to Capsule Corporation just as we were leaving. Really cute, but. . . don't tell Eighteen I said that."

". . .You know, Krillin, I think my mid-life crisis just started."

"What do you mean, Yamcha?"

"Think about it, Krillin. You have Eighteen, Tien has Lunch, Piccolo is asexual, even Vegeta has. . . Bulma. I'm the only one."

"Goku isn't married."

"He's divorced and has two sons to carry on his legacy. The android brothers look like they're in their twenties, and it isn't like they have to worry about aging. . ."

"I think they're younger than that."

"ANYWAY, my point is that I'm the only one without a significant other. I'm forty years old, Krillin. I dated Bulma for over fifteen years. I thought we would always be together. And now. . ."

"No offense, Yamcha, but it's a bit late for that. You and Bulma broke up nearly ten years ago."

"Well, yeah, but after her, everyone else kind of pales in comparison. And by my age, all the good ones have already been snatched up. I'm going to die alone."

". . .geez, Yamcha, I never knew you felt. . . where'd they go?"

"What do you mean. . . oh shit." They couldn't sense Cell and Mint in the restaurant.

"Eighteen is going to kill me."

"Not if Bulma gets to us first."

SWITCH

Eighteen couldn't have picked a more stereotypical, snobby restaurant. Not that Cell had any problems with snobby. He could pull off stuck-up quite well when the mood took him. It just irritated the android on some level that humans acted so superior when they were one of the weakest races in the known universe, and didn't even know it. But by Kami. . . FRENCH food? If Cell wanted snails, he could have picked them off of Chi-chi's yard. Mint didn't seem to like it much either. As far as he could tell.

"Well. . . at least it's color coordinated."

"It's a set menu. Damn. . . whose bright idea was it to serve asparagus in a lemon sauce? That won't taste good no matter how skilled the chef is. Much too tart."

As Mint surveyed the menu, her face fell. "The main course is a pork dish." (2)

"I am really beginning to hate my sister." They stood in gloomy silence.

"You know, there's a pretty good Italian place down the street."

"Pizza?"

"They make a mean tomato and onion."

". . . any pineapple?"

"Well, I think they use canned."

"Good enough."

SWITCH

Something was completely and utterly wrong with the universe. This farce of a date was supposed to be barely tolerable, not enjoyable. The fact that Mint actually owned some Eminem and Mozart CDs and despised Britney Spears with a passion counteracted all previous misconceptions of her that Cell had previously held. That, and the fact she spent her spare time snowboarding when she wasn't organizing political protests against the suppression of third world countries.

". . . and then they brought out the tear gas, but we gained two thousand new signatures on our petition, so it wasn't a total loss." She bit into her pizza, chewed, and swallowed. They were ten minutes in, and the large pie was already three quarters gone. Cell had only eaten two pieces.

"So, what do you do?"

". . .hmm?" He couldn't figure out how she ate so quickly without getting a drop of tomato sauce on her very expensive looking dress. Maybe it was just a power all women gained when they passed twenty. "Oh, I work as a litigator."

"A lawyer? Wow, you don't look the type."

"I was kind of forced into it."

"By your family?"

"No, just by extraneous circumstances."

"Who was the guy you were sitting next to at the party?"

"Goku. We live together."

"Is he a good roommate?"

"Besides the fact that he burns water, yes. (3) We met at a fighting tournament."

"So you're a fighter."

"I spar when I have the time."

"I've never met a warrior-lawyer before."

"Ummm. . ." She was smiling. So that had been a joke. "Well, I haven't met any others, either."

". . .would you like to go dancing?

"I've. . . never danced before." The Fusion Dance only counted if you were wasted.

"Trust me, the place I'm thinking of, everyone is going to be worse than you or so stoned they won't care." So much for the good little Jewish girl. Cell found it hard to be upset at himself for being wrong about her.

SWITCH

"How did you find this place?" He had to yell. The music was so loud he could barely hear himself, much less Mint. Good thing she had a strong set of lungs.

"I had an interesting adolescence."

"How so?"

"I would show you the mug shots, but I lost them. Or mom burned them. She did say they disgraced the family. She's probably right. I was pretty high when the police got a hold of me." Reeeeally not a good little Jewish girl. "Hey don't look at me like that. It was just possession of an illegal drug, it wasn't like I stole anything or killed someone, unlike you, Mister Relation Killer."

"You aren't what I expected."

"I'd say the same, except my only preconceptions of you were, "Wow, hottie, what a nice butt, and is that hair color natural?" He couldn't help blushing just a little. Damn his pale skin.

"The hair's natural." Mint was right, though. No one here danced well at all, except they were all emitting a weird. . . vibe. The incense he was breathing in probably had something to do with it.

"I used to love the rave scene. Then I cleaned up, and now it's just kind of fun to watch. People act really stupid when they're stoned to the gills."

"It's certainly interesting."

"Interesting as in 'I can't think of a more positive adjective,' or interesting as in 'wow, what are those people doing?"

"The latter. What ARE they doing, by the way?"

"I'm not sure I know. Or want to. Want to dance?"

"No."

"Me neither."

SWITCH

They left Club Smoke two hours later. Despite the fact that Cell had been forced to turn down not one, but nine joints, the experience had been enjoyable. Alarmingly so. Despite the fact her choice in restaurants was terrible, Cell was facing the disturbing prospect of apologizing to Eighteen for being so obstinate about the whole date thing. The limo stopped in front of her house.

"I've been meaning to ask you. What's with the house? And the lawn gnomes?"

"This is my brother's house. I'm staying here because my apartment building is being fumigated for fire-ants. I have no idea why he has lawn gnomes. I think his father-in-law is in the business."

"Ah."

They stood awkwardly on the doorstep. It was past midnight, and the house was dark.

"This was fun."

"Yes." More silence.

"So. . . are you going to kiss me, or not?"

"Umm. . ." Why couldn't he stop blushing? She leaned forward. He backed the other way.

"I can't. I. . ." Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT! Why couldn't he complete a sentence? She looked startled, but a calculating look suddenly crossed her face, which rapidly went to understanding.

"Oh Seru, I'm so sorry. You didn't want this date did you? You just came along because your sister set you up with me." How the hell had she figured that out?

"You seemed so uncomfortable, and your awkwardness with your family. . . I should have known, seeing as I don't get along well with a lot of my family either." Women were psychic. Had to be.

"It's so hard when family doesn't accept you." He wasn't that broken up about it, but she was working from a human's perspective, so. . .

"You're gay, aren't you?" Huh?

"I heard your roommate divorced because he left his wife, but how difficult it must have been for him to leave with you. And leave his children behind, at that." She couldn't be talking about Goku.

"With your families being friends, coming out of the closet must have been heart wrenching, and having to go all the way to South Africa to get away and not have your families accept you for five years. . . you are a very strong person to have followed your heart." Oh Kami, she WAS talking about Goku.

"I can't say I'm not a little disappointed (you are gorgeous, after all), but we can still be friends. I've never had a gay friend before."

"Mint, I'm not sure you have the story exactly straight. . ."

"Oy, Ce. . . Seru!" Goku couldn't have possibly had worse timing as he came out of nowhere (quite literally, as he had used Instant Transmission). "I thought you said the date wouldn't take so long. You're lucky I remembered to tape 'Will and Grace' for you." When Cell finally died again, he was going to visit hell and beat the crap out of Bardock for ever revealing the existence of that sitcom (4).

"Come on, Seru, Goten's still awake. He won't go to bed until you read him the next chapter of 'Winnie the Pooh.'" With every word, Mint's eyes grew more and more knowing.

"And you promised you'd make pancakes before we sparred tomorrow. We have to go to bed now if we're going to get up before the sun rises." Damn those eyes! Woman, you know nothing! Nothing!

"Goku, please give us a minute."

"Huh? Okay." The saiyan wandered over to the side of the road. Mint smiled at Cell.

"He's very sweet."

"So I've heard. Mint. . ."

"Don't worry, I understand." She kissed him on the cheek, and handed him a slip of paper. "Here's my phone number. Call me if you ever want to bitch about your boyfriend."

"Mint. . ."

"Have a good time with him." She winked. "He looks like a keeper."

"Listen, women, I don't think. . ." She closed the door in Cell's face, leaving him to wonder if he had been right all along about the level of her intelligence.

"Hey Seru, you done yet?"

"She's gone, Goku. You can call me by my real name now." Goku cocked his head sideways. The android let out an irritated sigh, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And yes, I'm done."

"Okay."

SWITCH

Goten fell asleep just after Pooh received the message in the bottle Piglet had sent. Goku stood right outside the demi-saiyan's bedroom as Cell closed the door behind him.

"Goten asleep?"

"Would I be leaving his room if he wasn't?"

"I guess not." Cell headed to his own room, Goku trailing behind him. "So, how'd your date go?"

"Better than I expected, though it ended on a rather odd note."

"Well, better than it ending on a bad note."

"I suppose so." They arrived at the android's doorway. Goku didn't move.

"Goku, you can leave now."

"Cell, I thought I should tell you something." At that, the saiyan pressed his lips lightly against the android's. The blush Cell had felt in Mint's presence was nothing compared to the inferno that lit his face as Goku quickly pulled away, smiling shyly. "In case you didn't already know, you're. . . a keeper too."

Cell could only stand there with his mouth hanging open as Goku left, presumably for his own room. There was silence for several moments.

"The intuitiveness of the females on this planet is disturbing. . ."

SWITCH

"Bulma, Eighteen, we're really, really sorry. I don't know how it happened, but Krillin and I lost. . ."

"Shhhh!"

"What are you three doing?" Apparently the human and the android twins were watching television, except there were several monitors. And all of them showed different views of the house Cell and Goku occupied in the woods.

"You bugged Goku's house?!"

"Relax, we only did it this morning. We'll remove the cameras tomorrow."

"Eighteen, sweety, why are you monitoring Cell and Goku?"

"It was Seventeen's idea."

"Aren't I brilliant?"

"It was MY plan."

"Bulma, you are already an acknowledged genius. Your ego doesn't need more stroking. Besides, it WAS a good idea."

"What plan?"

"Quiet, Yamcha."

"I won't be quiet! I want to know what's going. . . oh."

"Yes, oh."

"We're taping this right?"

"I'd kill myself if we weren't."

"At least this will make Chi-chi feel better about her looks." There was silence.

"Or maybe not, seeing as Chi-chi. . . isn't going to find out?"

"I knew I didn't marry a total idiot."

"Bulma, you really set this up?"

"Yamcha, the attraction between Cell and Goku was OBVIOUS."

"It was?"

"It was. And I was sick of them dodging around the issue. So we set Cell up to make Goku jealous."

"Wouldn't it have worked better to make Cell jealous?"

"No, for two reasons. One, Goku is less oblivious to his feelings than Cell. Two, Goku would have inevitably screwed up his date, which would hardly lead to feelings of possessiveness from his potential lover, who was in complete denial of having anything resembling feelings."

"Eighteen, why did you go along with this?"

"Anything that leads to pain for my little brother is worth it. And nothing is more painful than love."

"Ain't that the truth."

"Hey, Bulma, do you think Cell will give me Mint's phone number? She was pretty cute. . ."

"Not a chance, Yamcha."

FIN

Notes:

1) A joke about the recent scandals involving Mormon men with multiple wives.

2) Orthodox Jews follow a kosher diet, one of the restrictions being they can't eat any form of pig.

3) A common joke about people who can't cook.

4) Chapter Sixteen of "An Alternate Afterlife" has Bardock leaving prematurely after meeting with Cell because he isn't sure of Radditz's ability to use the VCR to tape 'Will and Grace.' This leads to Cell researching the show and becoming obsessed, to his utter horror.


	4. Preclude to Battle

Author's Note: Still not in the mood for angst. For you anti-slash people out there, shounen-ai is going to play a very small part in "AIF." Hints here and there, but most of the humor isn't focused on it. The minor romance is just a part of a story, not by any means the focus. Videl is in this chapter, and though I don't like her much, I promise I will endeavor to write her as she appears in the show, and not engage in mindless character bashing. This is the prequel to "Hercule, Savior of Earth," but it works as a stand-alone.

"Already? Wow, time sure flies by fast."

"Of course I'll be there! And Goten too. I think he's polished enough to be ready for this."

"I don't know. He doesn't think much of. . ."

"Good point. How about we get the group together to practice?"

"Tomorrow's good. See you then, Krillin!"

Ranked up there with avoiding group functions and death, nothing was more irritating than listening to half of a phone conversation. Of course, seeing as the only thing Goten did with any regularity was practice his katas, it could be deduced that it was something involving fighting. Most likely a tournament. Most likely a HUMAN tournament. Cell really didn't know why Goku persisted in his belief that there was anything salvageable in the dominant race of Earth. He could acknowledge that there were exceptional humans, anomalies that actually had some worth, but the majority of the species had the collective IQ of a very slow tapeworm.

"Hey, Ce. . ."

"No."

"But you didn't even. . ."

"Do you have any idea how much of a waste of time it would be to fight humans?"

Goku wasn't fazed by the accuracy of his friend's assessment of the situation. Bulma had the same strange ability to get an understanding of something from nothing. "The last time I entered a tournament was almost eighteen years ago. This isn't just any tournament. It's the twenty-sixth World Martial Arts Tournament."

"Seven."

"Huh?"

"The last time you entered a tournament was seven years ago, Goku. And besides that, I have been informed that you won the last time you battled in one of these things. Your ki has increased drastically since then. If you desire strong opponents, you have the most powerful warriors in the universe on speed dial. Not to mention we spar almost every day. What's the point?"

"Well, it's not just for the fighting. It's the crowds, the food, the centers for the fighters. The whole experience. You've never fought in one. . ."

"I organized one."

"Trust me, it's a whole 'nother enchilada when the fate of the world isn't at stake. They're a blast, even if you don't win."

"Forget it, Goku."

"But. . ."

"Goku, I have a very, VERY low tolerance for humans. Especially when there is large, obnoxious crowd of them." A pause.

"Gohan's going to enter."

As interesting as it was to have Goku as a friend, sometimes it really, really sucked to have someone who understood him so well.

SWITCH

Cell was sure he had mentioned earlier how irritating he found group functions. It was worse when the android realized he attended such events with enough regularity that he had A Role. Even more terrible, a clique had already been formed around his role, that of course being the Loner; to find group occasions irritating, but be constantly dragged to them anyway.

This rapidly became more obvious when they arrived at the sparring extravaganza (or whatever they were calling it, if they were calling it anything) the next day. Piccolo had taken the shade under the maple tree. Vegeta was scowling near the buffet. Everywhere else was a ton of people. (It should be pointed out that shortly after Cell's arrival, the buffet quickly became occupied by various hungry fighters, and Vegeta had been forced to abandon his position for the relative sanctity of the nearby lake edge.)

Someone with some sense had set up the gathering rather closer to Chi-chi's house and further away from Satan City, so there was little chance of a hapless Earthling coming upon their sparring session and being killed by a stray ki blast. It was a nice little area, more grass than trees, though this didn't stop Goten and Trunks from reenacting all of the Tarzan movies ever made. Peaceful, quiet, happy. Cell made a break for it as soon as Krillin distracted Goku enough that he loosened the death grip he had on the part of the android's arm right below the shoulder.

It only took the saiyan a few minutes to notice his friend was missing. He found Cell some distance away, on the edge of the lake opposite of the place Vegeta would be occupying in a few minutes. Goku, of course, was also part of a clique, though his particular grouping only existed as a supplement to Cell's. Goku's function was that of a Beseecher, whose sole purpose was to get the loner to interact with people. Other notable members of the beseecher group were Bulma, whose loner was Vegeta, and Gohan, whose loner was Piccolo.

That being said, Cell also mentally slotted Gohan into another role; annoying hybrid. He shared this undistinguished honor with Trunks, who had once attempted to dump a bucket of whipped cream on the android's head. If the tasteless confectionary had actually hit its target, it was unlikely the young demi-saiyan would have survived the experience. However, as a rule, Cell kept his guard up every waking moment. Paranoid? Perhaps, but his continual ki shield had saved him a shower and spared Trunks a very severe beating. As a rule, Cell avoided the annoying hybrids. Just being within ten feet of one of them made him want to break something.

"Cell, come back to the picnic before the dim sum gets cold."

"Goku, breakfast was two hours ago."

"So?"

"It isn't worth it to have to wade through your group of companions to get food when I'm not even hungry."

"I know you don't like most people, but we're going to start sparring in an hour or so and I figured you'd want to be at full strength."

"Goku, I am not sure you realize this, but my body doesn't require food to function. I am perfectly able to survive off of water."

"Bulma wants to talk to you about that new doohickey you two have been working on."

"If she wants to discuss the particle transmitter, I am hardly difficult to reach."

"But. . ."

"Goku, if you go off and socialize with your friends, I am hardly going to disappear into thin air." The saiyan didn't look very reassured, but before he could come up with another protest, both of them felt the arrival of Gohan, who for whatever reason was showing up late. And he wasn't alone. Cell tried briefly to identify the ki, but quickly gave up. "I thought Gohan was the last to arrive. Is someone else coming that I wasn't told about?"

Goku ticked off their parties on his fingers. "Yamcha showed right after we did. . . I think I saw Chi-chi and Taro's hovercar land before I came to find you, so. . . nope, that's it."

"Than who. . . nevermind. I suppose I will find out for myself." Cell, stretching out of the lotus position, missed Goku's relieved grin. Though Cell, for the most part, lacked Piccolo and Vegeta's temper when bothered too much, he was far more unlikely to listen when Goku tried to get him involved. The arrival of an unknown human, however it might disrupt their plans, was as good a way as any to get the introverted android to socialize.

SWITCH

Gohan actually hadn't intended to bring company. As the only person in Goku's little group to attend school, his schedule often wasn't taken into account when the saiyan's circle planned outings. It often led to the demi-saiyan missing out on them entirely, but because of a teacher meeting, Gohan for once would be able to see everyone, which actually hadn't been possible for him for a few months. It was times like this that Gohan was glad that he had quickly given up on the superhero idea. Though the crime rate in Satan City was a little high, he had already spent the majority of his life saving the Earth, and he felt he deserved to have a few years to himself.

The problem with being born into a group of already tight knit friends was that Gohan had no real reasons to seek out relationships in school. True, there was no one his age among the Z-fighters, but his fighting accomplishments and the bypass of puberty put him firmly in the adult half of the group. True, there were tensions between some members, and it was occasionally difficult to live with his mother, step-father, and half-sister, and see his father and brother only sporadically, but overall Gohan was happy with the arrangement. If he felt the urge to see others of his age, all he had to do was seek out Lime, a friend of his from the time of the Cell Games, and they would go hunting or fishing or swimming, and that was all he needed. Too bad his classmates didn't agree.

Gohan probably should have seen it coming, but despite his good nature Gohan had little in the way of social graces. It probably should have occurred to him that wearing a tight muscle shirt the first day of school wasn't the best way to remain inconspicuous, but the only other clothes he had that weren't dirty or torn were a few fighting gis. The teenage demi-saiyan was also unfortunate enough to end up in a class with a teacher who was thrilled enough to get a student with perfect scores that he announced it to the other students, and have to sit next to the most narcissist boy in school, who instantly took a dislike to Gohan because the demi-saiyan's muscles were more impressive than his own. Constantly getting challenged to weight-lifting contests was rapidly getting on Gohan's list for most irritating things in his life.

The girl sitting on the other side of him, Erasa, was even worse. Despite having blown off his mother's concerns about easy girls, Gohan was quickly coming to understand where she was coming from. She wouldn't let go of his arm, wouldn't stop giggling, and wouldn't stop talking about how amazing he was. As gratifying as it was to his ego (Lime rarely took notice, and when she did it was just to get him to carry everything), the continual flattery soon grated on Gohan's nerves. The demi-saiyan quickly wised up, and the next day wore a loose long-sleeved turtleneck. It was really too bad that he had already attracted the attention of all the females in school, teachers included, every single one of the athletic departments from football to swimming, and the jealousy of every male who wasn't homosexual, and a few that were.

Begging off social engagements soon proved to be a trial. Skipping out on an 'awesome' party to study only works once. Telling them he didn't go because he didn't drink just got everyone whispering about the purity of athletes (lies, all of them, as the majority of the jocks were drunk through the weekend). Refusing to play sports got him called everything from weak-willed to unpatriotic. Saying no to 'study group' invitations from girls just got them to bother him even more, as each one assumed that he was just selective and hadn't found the right girl yet.

As frustrating as all of this was, what really spooked Gohan was the continual stare of one Videl Satan. She wasn't one of the gigglers. She wasn't one of the girls who latched onto his arm at the slightest opportunity. Despite following in her father's footsteps, she also wasn't one of those who glared in jealousy at his rather impressive muscles. She just. . . stared. It was always something of a relief when she left on one of her numerous missions to assist the police in the latest armed robbery. Gohan couldn't think straight when he felt her eyes drilling into the back of his head.

It was one day between third and fourth period that Gohan finally found out her reason for her interest in him. "Your father is Son Goku, isn't he?" Despite not naturally being clumsy, Gohan couldn't help fumbling his books as he quickly shoved them into his locker.

"Wha. . . what makes you think that?"

"You share a last name, and you look like the pictures of him that they have in old newspaper clippings in the library."

"Um. . ."

"So is he?" Gohan gave up on the notion of lying. He wasn't good enough at it to evade Videl's piercing stare.

"Yeah, Son Goku's my dad." He couldn't help shifting under her gaze. "Does it matter?"

"It sure explains a lot. You refuse to do any school sports because you have to go home and train, don't you?"

"Hey." The demi-saiyan couldn't help but feel a little offended. "I wasn't lying when I said I had to study."

"I didn't say you were. Just that if you participated in after-school activities, you wouldn't have time to do both." What little irritation Gohan felt for Videl slipped from his grasp.

"Oh. I guess you're right."

"Are you going to participate in the World Martial Arts Tournament? I didn't see you in the Juniors four years ago, but you qualify for the adults this year."

"Why do you care?"

"The fighters in the adult division four years ago were pathetic. When I enter, the only real competition is going to be my dad. I want it tougher than that. You're a fighter, and your dad used to be World Champion. Even if he's retired, he trained you, so you have to be pretty good."

"Two points; someone else is my mentor. Dad helped with my training a little, but if you expect to get an idea of how to counter my moves by studying old videos of my dad, you're going to be disappointed. Second, my dad's not retired. He still trains, he just doesn't fight professionally anymore."

"That's what the rest of the world calls retired Gohan." The well of anger again began to fill.

"I'm not going to enter a stupid tournament just because you want some competition, Videl. Thank you, but I have better things to do."

"Do you really want me to resort to blackmail?"

"What could you possibly. . ."

"I've seen you flying, and I know it isn't a trick like my day claimed it was during the Cell Games." Gohan's throat closed up. Videl continued. "People flew in the old World Martial Arts Tournaments. I don't know if it's a secret discipline or something and that's why no one does it anymore, but I want you to train me to fly. And I want you to enter. That's all. You do that, and I'll never tell anyone." Gohan forced air out of his lungs.

"I. . . can I get back to you on that?"

"Call me at home. I'll tell the butler to expect a Gohan. But call by the end of the week. I don't want you to try and wimp out." She walked away. "See you at lunch, Gohan." The demi-saiyan stood, petrified. ((Oh man, I am in such deep. . .)) The bell rang.

"Damn it, I'm late to class!" His mother did not appreciate the detention Gohan received for a tardy and swearing in the halls.

Things proceeded from there. Gohan told his mother. She told Bulma. Bulma told Eighteen, who told Krillin. And Krillin told his dad. Before Gohan knew it, every single member of the Z-fighters, minus Yamcha, who was just going to watch, and Tien and Chao-tzu, who were training in the mountains, was entering the World Martial Arts Tournament. Videl was going to get more competition than she expected.

Despite the teacher conference, Gohan knew he still was going to be a little late to the gathering, but by flying fast and avoiding the routes usually taken by planes, he might. . .

"Hey, Gohan." . . .have really, really bad timing.

"Um, hey, Videl."

"Gohan, the tournament is in less than a month. When are you going to teach me to fly."

"In a bit, okay? I have somewhere I need to be."

"Gohan, I doubt flying is that easy. You're trying to flake on me. Teach me now."

"Videl, I can't be late for this."

"What, you can blow me off but you can't blow off your other friends?" Interesting, how Videl counted herself among his friends. Well, in comparison to everyone else in the school, Gohan guessed she came the closest.

"I didn't mean. . ."

"Look, just take me with you. I can meet your sparring buddies, and you can teach me to fly. Then I'll be out of your hair until the tournament."

"Can't we talk about this tomorrow?"

"Gohan, tomorrow starts your leave of absence from school to train for the tournament, and your phone number is unlisted." Gohan couldn't help but feel a little bad. True, she was blackmailing him a little, but it wasn't like she was trying to force him to do anything humiliating, and she looked a little hurt that he was trying so bad to get out of training her. He actually had forgotten that he wasn't going to be at school for a while, but it sure looked bad. And it wasn't like Videl would be rude to anyone. She was actually pretty polite, even if she was a little pushy.

"I guess you're right. Um, flying you might be kind of uncomfortable. Can we take your hovercar?" It was almost worth it to earn the eternal enmity of all the human hating Z-fighters to see Videl's face light up. Almost.

((Man, Vegeta's going to kill me.)) A sigh. ((Well, probably not. Cell's faster. He'll get to me first.))


End file.
